Outsiders Sayings
by duckie lover 151
Summary: Basically, a bunch of one-shots for sayings I like. I will take requests!
1. Life is Too Short

**Okay, basically this is a lot of one-shots to a bunch of sayings. There are some I want to do first, but if you like this and have a saying you want me to do, add it into your review. I will write them all down and who they're from IN THE EXACT ORDER THAT THEY'RE SENT TO ME! Beware, this story will require some patience.**

_Life is too short_

**Soda's P.O.V.**

_Why? Why me?_ These were the only thoughts going through my mind. Sure, they sounded childish and self-pitying, but did I have any reason not to be childish and self-pitying?

I hadn't cried this hard since I don't even know when. It sure made me feel like a child and I didn't care, despite having turned sixteen not too long ago. There wasn't a single person in the gang who wasn't crying, or didn't want to cry, just as hard.

Ponyboy had broken down before we'd even made it to the funeral home. I'd found it impossible to hold in my tears the moment I saw my parents' bodies.

At first I got that hard-to-describe feeling. Almost like the 'where-am-I' feeling you get when you wake up and you aren't in your bed, in your own house. Their bodies didn't belong there. They weren't supposed to be so motionless... how could this be happening?

I hadn't even realized I was crying until Steve had come over and squeezed my shoulder. Then I really lost it.

Johnny let a few tears slide down his cheeks. Two-bit looked ready to bawl any minute, but somehow found a way to hold it back. Steve and Dallas had become unreadable, brick walls. But Darry was the hardest to look at. I'd never seen him look so helpless. I could even watch my little brother sob in uncontrollable agony if I meant I didn't have to see that.

I can't tell you a single thing the priest said, and I couldn't watch as they set the caskets into the ground.

_This wasn't supposed to happen..._ I thought. _They weren't supposed to die... not yet at least._

I didn't think we could get along without them. But as soon as I turned away from the awful scene in the cemetery, Darry pulled me into his chest and just held me there for a little while.

Pony, also unable to watch, had gone off somewhere with Johnny. That was the best thing. I assured myself. I knew he really needed me, but I couldn't even deal with myself right now.

"It'll be okay, little buddy." Darry's usually strong, firm voice shook. "It may take time, but I promise, everything's gonna be okay."

I wasn't sure exactly what _it_ was. I was certain it couldn't be me, because I didn't think I'd ever be okay.

But when Darry held me and told me everything was going to be okay, I felt something. I wasn't too sure, but I thought it might've been something like hope.

_Life is too short_

**Review please! Okay, the first one was pretty dreary, and some of them might be, but what did you think?**

**Who's point of view it's in will be pretty random. I'll decided whenever the one-shot pops into my head.**

**I don't own the Outsiders!**


	2. Grudges are a Waste of Perfect Happiness

**Thanks to wordwarrior192 and WistyForeverAndTruly for reviewing the first chapter. Also, thanks to WistyForeverAndTruly for sending in the first request! :)**

_Grudges are a waste of perfect happiness_

**Pony's P.O.V.**

I was sitting out on the porch watching the rest of the gang play football in our yard. I would've played, but I just wouldn't be able to get into the game right now, and I wasn't ready for the criticism.

They thought I was reading, but I was really just watching them. I observe the gang a lot. Usually when I'm sure it's at a time when no one will notice. Times like right now when they're all too preoccupied to even remember the fact that I'm here.

My mind was still on my English assignment even though I'd finished it last night. One question in particular: _Do you think it's a good or bad thing that Theo holds onto his grudges? Explain using at least three details from the story._

I could've cared less about Theo; my mind was on the whole thing about grudges. Oh, I'd answered the question. I did pretty well, too, if I was scoring myself.

Hate was a pretty strong word, but my feelings for Soda's best friend came close to it. And I knew Steve didn't think too highly of me. It was the way that he treated me like a pest, mostly, but I didn't like his attitude either. Did Steve keep grudges? Definitely.

Steve was known for getting revenge. You mess with him or one of his buddies and he'll find you. That was probably what made him hate so deeply. If he would only let things go...

Johnny was probably the quietest in the gang, right after me. Or maybe I was right after him. Anyway, I usually notice when he's around, even if he says nothing.

But I started a bit when I noticed he was sitting right beside me. There was also no one in our yard anymore.

"Where..."

"We're takin' a break."

"Oh." I like being the closest to Johnny. I could practically read his mind. What he hadn't said was that he hadn't wanted to disturb me when I was so deep in thought, so he'd come over quietly.

I heard laughter from inside. Though I doubted they were listening to us anyway, I dropped my voice just in case.

"Hey, Johnny, do you think Dallas holds grudges?" Johnny was probably closer to Dally than anyone. He was the only one I hadn't really been sure of.

Johnny glanced behind us at the rest of the gang. No one had noticed that we'd started a conversation.

"Well, sort of. But he doesn't hold onto things." He looked at me sheepishly. "Sorry. Does that make sense?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." I understood, though no one else probably would have. Johnny wasn't so good with words, but that was okay, neither was Sodapop. What he meant to say was that Dally liked to get revenge, too, but afterward he didn't dwell on things.

Steve would remember you forever if you ever crossed him. You could cross Dally ten times (though I really don't suggest it) and he wouldn't remember your face. Dally didn't bother to remember one jerk from the next. Though, after getting the shit beaten out of you ten times I'd think one would learn... nobody messes with Dallas Winston.

I was too young to remember this, but Darry told me that Steve had gotten a lot happier after he and Soda became friends.

If this was happier, I'd hate to have seen what Steve was like before.

_Grudges are a waste of perfect happiness_

**Review please!**

**I don't own the Outsiders. I know this wasn't exactly upbeat, but it was at least more pleasant than the last one!**

**Once again, thanks to booklover and WistyForeverAndTruly!**


	3. Laugh When You Can

**This one should definitely be happier, but it'll have a grim underlining. Mostly, though, it's just happy. :)**

_Laugh when you can_

**Johnny's P.O.V.**

It was just another Saturday. But a Saturday at the Curtis's is never boring. Even the rain pelting the windows outside couldn't put a damper on our mood.

I love being this relaxed. You don't understand how stressful it is not being sure who to trust until you're practically living on the streets.

Steve and Soda were playing poker. Now, they're usually pretty entertaining, but today was exceptional. Even Pony had looked up from whatever it was he was writing to watch.

Two-bit was commenting. He sounded real professional, but it seemed to be annoying the hell out of Steve. He could get real competitive.

Steve didn't always play fair himself, but today he was calling Soda out for every little thing.

The grin never left Soda's face. He began criticizing Steve for little things he did that were borderline cheating. As competitive and irritated as Steve was, a smile was playing around the corners of his mouth as well.

Of course, his irritation probably wasn't helped by the fact that Dally had swiped the deck before they'd started and was now helping Sodapop cheat.

I sighed almost inaudibly. But Pony seemed to notice my completely-at-peace look. Because this _was_ peaceful. Of course, there was the shouting and the thumping and all, but it just wouldn't be the Curtis household without the noise.

We watched as Steve finally had enough and tackled Sodapop, messing up all their cards and chips while he was at it. They had a brief wrestling match where there was no real winner. Then Steve got even madder when he saw what he'd done, except he had no one to blame but himself this time.

Soon we were all laughing, even though there was nothing really to laugh about. Well, at first we were all laughing at Steve, but then we were just laughing. For a while, Steve tried to stay mad, but soon he was grinning, and then he was laughing along with us.

When you've lived our lives, you cherish moments like this. When you're a greaser, you learn to laugh when you can, because you don't always have stuff to laugh about.

Soon, Darry came home and we were still laughing. He stared at us for a moment then sighed that 'all-my-friends-are-hopeless-morons' sigh. Of course, that just made us all laugh harder.

**Review please!**

**I don't own the Outsiders! :) S.E. Hinton does. She did a great job too! (Well, except when she killed Soda in Vietnam.) :) **


	4. Apologize When You Should

_Apologize when you should_

**Pony's P.O.V.**

Lately there'd been a few rough spots, but finally things were going well. For me anyway.

I was practically walking on air when I came home Monday afternoon. If I'd known that having a date made you feel this good, I would've tried it before.

Sodapop was home when I got there; today was the day he got off early. He smiled when I came in, but it was sort of a sad smile. I'm sad to say that if he was upset that day I took little notice.

"Hey, kid," he said when I came in. "How was your day?"

"Amazing!" I was practically gushing.

His smile seemed for real this time. "Really? What happened?" I proceeded to tell him all about it.

He seemed happy for me, but a bit worried at the same time. "Pony," he said slowly, "how well do you know this girl?"

I blinked... and answered him.

"Oh." My answer hadn't seemed to reassure him any. "Do you really think it's such a good idea to go out with someone you've only known for a few days?"

I paused again. Then Steve called for him out in the living room. Soda sighed and left the room. I was in some sort of shock. If anyone, I figured Darry would be the one lecturing me before my date. My eyes slid over to the desk.

Ah... it all made sense now. Right before I'd come in, Soda had been fingering the letter that Sandy had sent back.

Darry and I had both tried to persuade Soda to get rid of it. Darry said it would help him get over her faster. But Soda hadn't. That night he'd told me that he just wasn't sure if he was ready to let go yet.

I could understand Soda. Sandy had really meant something to him. And whether or not she cared now, I know she had at some point in time. I hadn't said anything, but Sandy had owed it to him at least to send a letter back. And I hoped that she thought about him every now and then.

Later at dinner when I told Darry, he seemed a bit taken aback, but let me go to the movies with her even though it was a school night. And I stuck to my word, we were both back on time.

Rita's hair was hazel colored (I'd thought hazel could only be used to describe eyes until I met her.) and her eyes were blue. Right now we were about the same height, but if I didn't hit a growth spurt soon she would be taller than me. Not that it bothered me.

Maybe what I liked best about her was that she didn't mind going out with me even though, and there was no way I would've told Soda this, Rita was borderline Soc. But she wasn't one of those girls who shot disgusted looks at me in the halls.

The movie was good and we laughed most of the way to her house. I took my time walking back to my own house. I was mulling things over. We'd really had a good time tonight. One of the best things was that even though I took my time, I wasn't even late.

Right before I went to bed Darry told me he was happy for me. But he seemed a bit worried. It was when he told me that Sodapop was already in bed that I figured it wasn't me he was worried about.

Right after Sandy had left, Soda had gotten pretty depressed. Not suicidal or anything, just really withdrawn. And it really wasn't like him. It had really scared us. At first Darry had just assumed if we left him alone for a little while Soda would sort things through and pull out of this on his own. I guess neither of us had really gotten just how much Sandy meant to our brother until she was gone.

When I got into bed, at first I thought Soda was asleep, but then he rolled over and asked me about my night. I told him and he seemed genuinely pleased. What bothered me was the talk he gave me right before the two of us went to sleep. I could tell what this meant. Sodapop would be supportive, but wary.

I blew it off and went to sleep, but all of the next nights, Soda continued with more talks. It was really starting to tick me off to be honest.

I knew Soda was just worried. I knew he was only doing it because he cared. I knew it was like every time Darry got worried and yelled at me. I knew Soda just didn't want me to get hurt and have to feel what he had felt. What he still was feeling. But despite all that I knew, I'm ashamed to say that Thursday night, I blew up at him.

"Shut up, Soda! Just shut up!" Everything got deadly silent and I continued. "I'm sorry Sandy broke your heart, but Rita's not like that!"

"I just think-" But I cut him off with the meanest words I'd ever said to my beloved older brother.

"Well, _I _think maybe it's time you got over a girl who obviously doesn't love you!"

We returned to the dead silence. I couldn't believe I'd said that. Soda told me goodnight and rolled over. His tone was emotionless. I couldn't sleep though. I was plagued with guilt for hours.

The next morning any words Sodapop said to me were formal and polite. Darry must've seen how much it hurt and there was no doubt he'd heard me because right before I'd left he squeezed my shoulder and said, "It's gonna be okay." I'm sure Darry would've blown up too. He knew only too well what it was like to wish you could take back your words. And the guilt didn't stop.

Especially later that afternoon. Soda was the first to hug me when he found out that Rita and I were no longer together. She'd cut things off just as quickly as she'd started them.

Even though I knew it would be okay if I did, I didn't cry, but it did hurt. "I'm so sorry," I whispered.

"Don't worry about it," Soda whispered back. Soda knew how much he meant to me. He knew I hadn't really meant what I'd said.

But I knew that that still didn't make it okay that I'd said it. Soda was always there for me. I just hoped Soda knew that I was there for him too.

_Apologize when you should_

**Review please! Well, greasergirl123, I guess you got your wish! This is the longest chapter yet!**

**Just some background info, this is the one-shot that made me start the whole thing. I came up with this storyline first.**

**I don't own the Outsiders!**


	5. And Let Go of What You Can't Change

**I'm deciding as I go so... in some chapters Johnny and Dally will be alive and in others, it will be important to the storyline that they aren't. So, as you can probably guess because I've chosen now to explain this, they aren't alive in this chapter.**

_And let go of what you can't change_

**Pony's P.O.V.**

"Ready?" Soda asked me as our old truck slowed to a stop.

"Are _you _ready?" Maybe it sounded rude, well, I know it did compared to how I usually spoke to him, but that was like asking whether or not I felt like taking a field trip out to Windrixville just for the heck of it.

The two of us got out. Something of a half, almost smile crossed our faces as a response to the two, pointless questions. We were no longer dreading this, not exactly, but it still hurt. The three of us stopped by our parents' gravestones first.

Grief can wash over you like a wave in the depths of a tsunami. It's amazing, but no matter how many times we visited, it never really sunk in until it happened. Soda squeezed my shoulder and I knew he was feeling the pain too.

We weren't there long. The three of us stayed just long enough to put down live flowers and clean up the gravesite.

Every time before today, we'd left at this point. I'd use the silent ride home to wipe all thoughts of the emotional tsunami from my mind.

But this time we had other people to see.

We seemed to trudge miles through the cemetery until we reached two different gravestones. Johnny and Dallas.

Two-bit and his mother, and probably even his little sister, would come by later. That would be good, because I wasn't sure if Two-bit could be completely open with even us, but I knew he could with Mrs. Mathews. Mrs. Mathews had loved Johnny and even Dallas as if they were her own kids. She thought of all of us that way.

But she could cry for anyone. I wouldn't be surprised if one day, she was standing in this graveyard crying for Tim Shepard.

Steve would probably come by later with Soda. This was the one thing that the gang didn't do together.

This pain came in a different type of wave. I honestly couldn't tell you which hurt worse, but I felt them both just as deeply. I told myself not to think, but it was like my mind was its very own movie theater.

There were scenes of the whole gang just hanging out. Ones where Dally wasn't in a particularly foul mood and Johnny wasn't so uneasy. Some of the better days.

But then the scenes turned to more recent memories. Johnny and I in Windrixville, the night we were attacked by Bob and Randy, Johnny in the hospital, Dally deliberately getting himself shot. I shuddered with each one.

It was only until Soda wrapped his arms around me that I realized that there were tears streaming down my cheeks. And when Darry hugged both of us I noticed that Soda was sobbing just as hard.

Someone once told me that I should let go of what I couldn't change. Now that I thought about it, it had been Mr. Symes.

Then we left. As simple as that. But the next day I approached Mr. Symes about it.

He watched as I told him he was wrong. "Johnny and Dallas were two of my best friends. And I loved my parents! I loved all of them! And you expect me to just let all of that go?"

He handed me the box of Kleenex on his desk and it dawned on me that I'd gotten more emotional than I'd intended.

"Ponyboy, I'm not sure you understood me correctly. Let's see if this can help you. In the words of a wise man who's name is escaping me, Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

I could tell our conversation was over, so I left. After a few hours and a lot of thinking, I did understand what he'd meant to say.

Don't let go of the memories.

Never let go of the memories.

But let go of the grief to the point where it no longer hurt to remember.

**Review Please!**

**I don't own the Outsiders!**

**I really put in two sayings in this one.**


	6. Love Deeply and Forgive Quickly

**TuffGreasers, this is sort of what you wanted. You asked for a chapter in Dally's P.O.V. Well, this isn't exactly the same thing, but I think it's pretty darn close. I hope...**

_Love deeply and forgive quickly_

Dally stood, leaning back against the Curtis' old house. He, Johnny, and Ponyboy were the only ones there.

It was a Saturday, but Darry, Sodapop, and Steve all had to work. Two-bit was god-knows-where. Johnny had suggested it, but Dally honestly hadn't cared enough to look for him.

Now, he was watching Johnny and Pony have a one-on-one football match. Though he wasn't aware of it, there was a blatant pride in his eye that Johnny was winning. There was a happiness in the younger boy's eyes that wasn't often seen. But Dally noticed it.

It wasn't often that Dally just stood back and observed others. Normally, he didn't give a shit about anybody else. Well, with one outstanding exception. But he was having what the gang liked to refer to as a Pony-moment.

It was surprising that someone who was hurt as bad as Johnny had been in his lifetime could still love so deeply. Dally almost admired it in him.

Dally admired Johnny in a lot of ways, but still, he doubted that he actually wanted these qualities. After all, they weren't exactly making him stronger, were they? Not that he wanted Johnny to change. Not at all.

Dallas would never tell anyone this, but he was a bit jealous of Pony. Johnnycakes was always so open with him. Dally had sort of brought it up with the person least likely to tease him. Good too because he hadn't felt like breaking any bones that day just because of mocking laughter. Darry had looked at him for a moment then said it was probably because the two of them were so alike. It made sense, but that explanation sure didn't work for everybody.

For example, the idea of Dallas and Tim Shepard just sitting around sharing their feelings was hilarious. They could be high and still probably not have that conversation. Ever.

But the other thing, possibly Johnny's only fault in Dallas's eyes, was how quickly he could forgive those bastards he was forced to call his parents. Dally would've gone over and murdered them many a time if he hadn't known that Johnny still loved them somehow. But really, sure they created him... and hadn't given a damn ever since. They didn't deserve to be Johnny' s parents.

Dally knew that the Curtises would gladly take him in any day. Hell, Dallas would jump at the chance to take him in... if he weren't only seventeen and stuck with a record with the fuzz over a mile long.

Though Dally despised it sometimes.. he knew that these were some of Johnny's best qualities.

They were what brought a smile to his lips when he watched the younger teen. What kept him innocent despite life's challenges.

What defined him as Johnnycakes.

**Review Please! I hope you like it! **

**I don't own the Outsiders! **

**Dunno what to say now... Send in requests! I promise I will get to them!**


	7. Take Chances, Give Everything

**Okay, so that last one was sorta kinda in Dally's P.O.V... sort of.**

**Anyway, I'm trying to write at least one in everybody's! Well, maybe not everybody's but most of them. **

**So sorry if my experimenting goes horribly wrong...**

_Take chances, give everything_

**Darry's P.O.V.**

After another day of work, I came home hoping for no more drama. But when I got there our house was peacefully quiet. In other words, something was wrong.

Ponyboy was sitting out on the porch doing his homework. He had a lot of makeup homework from being absent. It had gotten to the point that he wouldn't have seen the outside world at all if he hadn't taken to doing his work outside.

But still, as much as my little brother liked school, the work load was really getting to him. As much as I wished he could take a break just for a night or two, I knew he couldn't afford to fall any further behind.

When I went inside Steve and Two-bit were watching TV. Silently... yup, something was definitely wrong. "Where's Soda?"

Steve looked up. "In his room." Just from the tone of his voice I could tell that Soda was 'mourning' again. The greasers had taken to using this term even though technically Sandy wasn't dead.

I went to the room my two younger brothers shared. Soda was sitting on the bed with his back to me. He didn't feel a presence so I knocked on his door. Sure enough, he was holding the letter.

"You have to let it go, Pepsi."

He gave me a sad smile. "I know." But I could tell he wasn't ready yet.

**Steve's P.O.V.**

Darry didn't notice me standing behind him, but Soda did. Half of that was directed at me.

I stormed out of the house, paying no attention to Two-bit or the kid. I stormed down the street, kicking bottles and rocks out of my way with more force than I would have if I'd just been taking a casual stroll down the streets of Tulsa.

I can't believe I ever thought that little bitch was pretty cool, that Soda had picked a winner. What the hell gave that dumb broad the right to cheat on my best friend?

Soda had loved her with everything he had; he would've given her anything. He took a chance, _had_ given her everything he had to offer. And how did she repay him? She had some other jerk's brat and threw it all back in his face!

As I scowled to myself and gave anyone who dared to look at me a dirty look that made me deserving of a hood's dangerous reputation, I thought to myself: Sandy's no better than a damn Soc.

_Take chances, give everything_

**In this one I had two different point of views! :) I just didn't feel like I could get the whole story out in one.**

**Warning now that some chapter can and will revolve around similar subjects.**

**This is set after Soda storms out on Pony and Darry. Whether or not Johnny and Dally lived is up to you. (They lived, dammit!)**

**I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed this story so far! I really appreciate and would just like to say that it does help with the motivation! :D**

**I don't own the Outsiders.**

**I would also like to point out that I'm not a pessimist (well, not always anyway) ****I know these chapters have been pretty dreary overall, but not everyone will end up like Soda if you take chances and give everything. :)**


	8. And Have No Regrets

**Okay,... so I'm not doing so well with having at least one chapter in everybody's P.O.V...**

_And have no regrets_

**Pony's P.O.V.**

Consequences. This word isn't as scary to us greasers as it is to the Socs. Or the rest of the world for that matter.

Contrary to popular belief, most greasers aren't dumb. There are some exceptions. I mean, I don't think any of the Brumly boys will graduate high school. But, low IQ or not, that's just not their style.

And no matter what Sodapop says, he's pretty smart. Where it counts anyway.

Consequences. Even the Brumly boys know what the word means. There are those of us that listen, like Darry and me and occasionally Soda.

And there are those of us who could care less.

Tim Shepard and Dallas Winston are perfect examples. Not only could they care less about their police records, they're proud of them. You could tell by the way they go around trying to break laws just to see what they can get away with.

Or the way Dally grinned whenever he did something illegal. Whether he was caught or not he always seemed a bit triumphant. I'd bet the two of them never gave a second thought as to what they did. Unless they were gloating about it of course.

Of course, one must also take into consideration that neither of them have an older brother like Darry.

Neither Sodapop nor Two-bit ever had any regrets either, but for completely different reasons. They both had their serious moments, but overall those two lived to have fun. All four of them lived in the present.

Unlike me. I don't think I could ever live like they do. I spend too much time analyzing every little thing that's ever happened to me.

Every now and then I wonder how they do it. I'll look at how carefree Soda and Two-bit are and think: Maybe that's the way to do it. Maybe everybody should live life with no regrets.

But then I'll take another look at Dallas and Tim Shepard and my mind will be spinning in circles again.

_And have no regrets_

**Review please!**

**I don't own the Outsiders!**


	9. Life is Too Short to Be Unhappy

**Okay, from here on it could get pretty repetitive, but I promise, in the end it will all make sense!**

_Life is too short to be unhappy_

**Soda's P.O.V.**

Ask anyone who's lost someone who died too soon. Life is too short.

But this isn't always a bad thing. I tried explaining this to Darry the other day. He just gave me a look that said I'd been spending way too much time with Ponyboy if I was starting to think deeply about stuff like this.

I guess I can see his point. I mean, life was way too short for our parents. That really sucked and it still hurts to think about it, but as Pony is constantly telling me, you have to look at both sides of the situation. I never really understood what he meant before. Of course, I never really listened to him either...

I remember how when we were younger Steve and I would always push each other to do the bigger stunt. We'd see who could climb highest in the tree in our backyard. Who could get the most attention for pulling off something in school without getting caught.

Heck, we still do those things now.

My teachers were always telling me I needed to push myself back when I was still in school. Regardless of what they think, I did get something out of all their little pep talks.

Knowing that life's too short, or that you never know how much longer you'll live; that could push someone to have more fun in life.

Life is too short to moan about all the awful things. Or to complain _about _life being too short.

I never understood those sayings before and I still don't really get them now. But if you add this and 'live life to the fullest' together, it makes perfect sense!

**Review please!**

**Wow, I think I just broke my record. This is insanely short and I'm so, so, so, so ****sorry! ^^'**

**I don't own the Outsiders!**


	10. You Have to Take the Good With the Bad

**Since the last one is so short I'm staring this one right away!**

_You have to take the good with the bad_

**Steve's P.O.V.**

I took off from my house around midnight. I'd ran out, but about five minutes later, when my house was out of sight, I slowed to a walk.

My dad was drinking heavily again. We get into enough fights when he isn't drop-dead-drunk. Usually I'll wait around for the argument to start up. We'll scream at each other and then I'll storm out. Usually I didn't agree with leaving before that, because it made it look like I was running away. But today I just wasn't in the mood.

It had been a slow day at work. I use work to take my mind off of things. Soda said Ponyboy calls it my 'personalized anger-management therapy'. I still don't see why Sodapop has to tell the kid every damn thing, but I have to admit, he does come out with some wise stuff every now and then.

But today there'd been practically nothing to take my mind off of anything. Soda had noticed early on that I seemed ready to blow, so we didn't talk much. On days like this even Soda could get me angry without meaning to.

My father and I had had shouting matches every night this week so far. But he hadn't kicked me out yet, so I'd gotten out myself. Seeing as I just kept getting more and more pissed, you'd expect me to be ready for a fight tonight.

But then a strange thing happened. I was sitting in my room, listening to my father slam down another beer bottle and laugh idiotically at some TV show. I was sure that as soon as a commercial came on my father would be up and ready to torment me. That is, if he could even manage to walk through the house to my room without passing out.

Once Two-bit asked why I would have the occasional beer with him and Dally when the real reason I hated my father was that he got himself wasted each night and turned into a bastard.

I didn't have an answer for him, but after a while it came to me. I wasn't going to let my father ruin anything else for me. He'd already chased my mother out of the house and stolen quite a few of my paychecks though he thought I didn't notice. Besides, I wasn't going to screw up my life over a bottle of alcohol.

I'm not sure how to explain it, but it would probably go something like this: Just because you puke something up, it doesn't necessarily mean you'll never eat it again. Sure, most times alcohol sickened me. But only when it was misused.

I got to the Curtis house and plopped down on their couch, happy that no one else had been forced to take refuge there. As I sat there, I thought about what had happened to all the people in this house.

Johnny's parents didn't care, but he had the whole gang to care about him. Almost nobody cared about Dally, but he had Johnny. Two-bit's mother adored him no matter what he did even though it had been tough on all of them when his dad walked out on their family. The Curtises had lost the best parents the world could ever offer way too soon, but they still have each other.

And then there's me. Despite all that's happened this past week, a small smile crossed my lips.

My dad could be in the running for World's Worst Father, but I have the best friends in the world.

**Review Please!**

**I really like this one. The last one was harder to write, that's why it's so short.**

**I don't own the Outsiders!**


	11. Smile When You're Sad

_Smile when you're sad_

**Johnny's P.O.V.**

Having a reputation for being quiet can be a gift. No one expected me to speak up that morning, so I was left to my thoughts.

As much as I loved how hospitable everyone in this house was, it sort of hurt how no one was all that surprised to see me on their couch this morning.

I didn't want to be the guy who spent the majority of his nights at friends' houses because his parents didn't see him as any more than a worthless, inconvenient pest. But that was a two-way deal and there was nothing I could do about it.

Last night, on his way back from the bathroom, Soda had spotted me on their couch. I'd nodded to him and he'd nodded back. I'd expected him to go back to bed after that, but he came over and sat next to me. At first I'd sort of been hoping he'd just leave me in peace.

I'd never admit this, but sometimes I cry once I've escaped the hell that I have to call home. And I couldn't do that in front of anybody else. Not even Sodapop. But he sat down next to me and started a conversation.

"How you doin', Johnnycake?"

"Okay." At this point I was still hoping this was going to be the end of it. But Soda continued to talk. it seemed to be about nothing in particular, but soon I found myself laughing.

And then it hit me. This was what Soda did every time Steve got into a fight with his dad. Every time Pony had a nightmare.

Sometimes, you just have to smile when you're sad.

_Smile when you're sad_

**Review Please!**

**Wow, this is a whole lot shorter than I thought it would be, but I really don't think it has to be much longer.**

**I don't own the Outsiders!**


	12. Love What You Got

_**Love what you got**_

**Mrs. Mathews P.O.V.**

I sighed as I plopped down the first couple of grocery bags onto the kitchen table. It had been an incredibly long day.

Two-bit came out to help me when he heard the door slam. I smiled as he dropped the next few beside the ones I'd brought out.

"I'll get the rest." he volunteered and rushed out the door before I could protest.

I sat down on the chair beside me and watched him through the kitchen window. He attempted to lift more bags than necessary and laughed when he fell on his butt, nearly in the street.

Smiling and laughing... Two-bit was always smiling. Even when no one was watching, though this wasn't the best example.

I was extremely grateful that he could smile like that.

When I was a little girl, my mother was always telling me that there will always be someone out there who's worse off. And this is true. I mean, just look at poor Johnny Cade. But even knowing that someone has it worse doesn't stop you from being able to see when you've got it hard.

Two-bit never knew his father. I've gone over the pros and cons of this situation thousands of times. Surely he couldn't have been that great of a guy to know if he ran off before his child was born, but every boy should know their father.

Not too soon after I married Harold Mathews. He was my prince, my knight in shining armor. And five years later we had Katelynn. But Harold had cancer and not too many months after Kate's birth Harold died.

My incredibly strict mother's teachings came in handy right about now. For I was a single mother once more. I never knew my father. In some ways I could relate to my children, but neither of them ever talked about it.

I'm not so sure about Katelynn, but I'm pretty sure Two-bit just let it go.

That and he has an incredible group of friends. Friends and family make you who you are. A missing parent can shape your life too, but it doesn't seem like Two-bit has let that happen to him.

He comes in the door then, stumbling. I look up and see that he has in fact managed to get every single grocery bag in one trip. I smile, but it isn't nearly as wide as his grin. My first instinct is to go over and take a few from him, lighten his burden. But I know that doing that wouldn't make his accomplishment nearly as great.

I may have lost a lot, but I've gained so, so much.

_Love what you got_

**Review please!**

**Holy crap, guys, I updated! Okay, I'm a procrastinator, but this time I actually lost the notebook that I had this written down in. I found it!**

**I don't own the Outsiders!**


	13. And Always Remember What You Had

_And always remember what you had_

**Soda's P.O.V.**

I was jarred awake by my younger brother. Not too surprising seeing as we slept in the same bed. But unfortunately, it was becoming more and more common to be woken up at the ungodly hour of two or three in the morning.

I sat up, yawning. "Yeah?" I'd stopped asking if anything was wrong. I didn't need to anymore. I could tell he wasn't crying, and if something was wrong... I just would've been able to sense it, you dig?

"Soda?" After so many times in a row, his voice was a little hesitant. "Could we go visit the cemetery?"

The first time he'd requested this (at 1:30 AM, I might add) my first thought had been, _now_?

But now it was: _Again? _He already knew I'd take him, but I couldn't resist saying, "You need your sleep, kiddo." _And so do I for that matter..._

But he was already was getting his shoes on so with a sigh I heaved myself out of bed. He headed outside to go wait in the truck while I told Darry.

I shook my older brother awake as gently as possible. He stirred slowly, also with a yawn. When he opened his eyes and saw me he sighed and lay back down. "Again?" It came out almost as a grumble, but I could tell it worried him. The first few nights, he'd come with us.

"We'll be back in a little while," I whispered.

"Okay," he mumbled sleepily.

Pony was already staring out the window when I went outside. He didn't even notice when I got in and started the truck.

The cemetery was only about five minutes away so we were there soon. When I stepped out I could tell it had just rained. Why? Because the grass was wet and I'd forgotten my shoes. But that was okay. It felt nice.

I went around the side of the truck and rapped on the window to get Pony's attention. He looked up, surprised, and noticed that we were here.

He got out and I followed. He led us past our parents' graves and over to Johnny and Dallas's. He sat down in front of them without a word. I sat down next to him. Then, out of the blue, he said, "Hey, Soda? Do you remember the time Two-bit broke those windows in the school, but Dal said he did it?"

"Yeah." There had been a lot more to it the way I remembered... That was the weird thing. Sometimes, random things like that were all he'd say on these trips. Then he'd just stare at the gravestones for a while. Sometimes it was just a few minutes. Sometimes, it was hours. It worried Darry; I figured, maybe it was his way of coping.

I could already tell that tonight was gonna be one of those nights, so I put my arm around his shoulders and settled in for tonight's visit.

_And always remember what you had_

**Review please!**

**I don't own the Outsiders. This chapter was brought to you from the depths of my inspiration, because I looked at all the stories that I haven't written anything for in forever, and realized that I didn't really want to work on them anyway. ^^**


	14. Always Forgive, But Never Forget

**I almost decided to make this its own one-shot, but I'm putting it in this story. This one-shot's message isn't as blatant as the others'; you need to look for it. ****You know Pony's story, not Randy's.**

_Always forgive, but never forget_

**Randy's P.O.V.**

It all started with Shelby. My twelve-year-old little sister. She's a bit of a brat sometimes, but lovable all the same.

It happened about a month ago. My sister has always been a little shady about her friends, but a few of the girls she hangs out with have come over before and they're all pretty nice. All girls that our parents approved of.

I don't want to make Mom and Dad out to be snobs, but they do have standards, and they aren't afraid to voice their opinions. I always made sure to reanalyze my friends before inviting them over.

Bob was the one exception to this thought process. His parents are friends with my parents. I've known Bob since we were both in diapers. Bob was one of my best friends in the world, though his temper tended to block out his judgment. I didn't always agree with his choices and I knew my dad didn't either, but when it came to Bob, Dad never said anything.

Anyway, back to the incident about a month ago. Shelby's lunch is at the same time as mine even though she's still in middle school. So it isn't uncommon for her to sneak over to the high school during lunch. Sometimes she even brought her friends with her.

About a month ago I spotted her outside the cafeteria. Eating lunch with a group of greasers.

Without giving a second thought to what I was about to do, I stood up and walked outside. I pulled her away by the arm, out of earshot. They just watched in stony silence.

"What're you doing?" I hissed. "You know better than to hang around with trash like that!"

Shelby's only twelve. That's young, but by the time I was twelve I already knew the difference between a greaser and a Soc. And, more importantly, I knew which side of the line I stood on.

Shelby pulled away angrily. "Stop being so immature, Randy!" she snapped.

At that time I had no idea what she meant. Then 'The Incident' happened.

Just like all the other guys, I was drinking that night so I can't remember all of it.

I can't remember what it felt like to hold Ponyboy Curtis down. I hope there was a part of me that realized it wasn't right to be drowning the kid. That realized how foolish I was being. But I honestly can't remember what I was thinking or feeling. I feel guilty as hell now.

There are two things I remember crystal clearly from that night. The scared eyes of the boy with the knife, and Bob's body lying by the fountain in a pool of his own blood.

I didn't see it happen. All I know is that one minute I was standing over the fountain, the next we were all running away. I only saw a fleeting glimpse of Bob's body and the boy pulling his friend out of the fountain as we drove away.

I'm not sure if it was that image or all the alcohol I'd consumed that night that made me puke as soon as I was out of the car and in front of my house. It was probably a combination of both.

I was a wreck when I got inside. I can't remember most of the conversation we had that night. Just how disappointed my parents looked. Usually my dad ends serious conversations by giving me a look that let me know that he was proud of me. I was so out of it that I couldn't even figure out why this conversation didn't end like all the others.

Over the next week, things started to make sense. I thought a lot about what Shelby said. I couldn't get a certain story her teacher had told me out of my head.

Near the beginning of the school year Shelby got a new kid in her class. Her name was Jenna something-or-other. In the middle of class Jenna just started crying. Every other kid in the class either laughed or began making fun of her. Shelby got up from her seat and gave Jenna a hug. It turned out that Jenna's mom had died the week before school started.

I'd always liked to think that I was a lot like my dad. But Shelby is way more like him than I'll ever be. Soon after this story came back to me, my dad started talking to me about doing the right thing even though I was way confused.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I must have always known that when the court date came around I would do what I should, but at that time it seemed a little unfair that I had to do the right thing _and_ I didn't get to blow town afterwards.

But it didn't sink in how stupid the whole greaser vs. Soc thing was until after I went to see Ponyboy. I honestly hadn't realized how hard he had it, though his recent problems were my fault.

And now, as I put flowers on both Bob's and Johnny Cade's grave, I realize just how wise beyond her years Shelby really is.

**Review please! I don't own the Outsiders.**

**I'm really pleased with the way this one came out. You can learn a lot from your younger siblings, though personally, I have yet to learn anything worthwhile from mine...**


	15. Learn From your Mistakes

**Hello, internet! Okay, so I'm not sure I even want to go into how long it's been since I updated… Okay, I know… Two years… STOP LOOKING AT ME WITH THOSE EYES!**

**But a miraculous thing happened last night. I found the notebook where I kept the quotes that I was going to make one-shots out of… Yes, I lost it. Yeah, it's not a good excuse… Sorry. **

_Learn from your mistakes, but never regret._

Learn from your mistakes… Soda hated that line more than any other his teachers threw at him. Unfortunately for him, that was his English teacher's favorite.

English. If there was one thing he hated more than arithmetic, it was English. He didn't understand how Pony was so damn good at it! But then, when it came to school, Pony seemed to be good at everything.

It was common for Soda to be sitting at the table for hours after Ponyboy had finished his homework. Both of his brothers tried to help him, but something just never clicked. Usually, he'd give up about halfway through.

This had been the case with last night's English assignment.

Mrs. Barell was an old bitter widow. She was grumpy towards everyone, but she hated Soda. And the feeling was mutual. She glared at Soda over her tiny, wire-framed glasses. She held one paper in her hand. One barely-done paper.

"Sodapop," she said harshly. "Would you care to tell me what this is?"

Soda cringed. He was in the lowest possible English class, yet he was still the worst one there. He cleared his throat.

"Uh, that's last night's homework, Ma'am."

She strode to the chalkboard and used a piece of scotch tape to stick his paper to the board. There were a few snickers, and Soda felt his ears heat up.

The first four problems were done. Poorly… but they were answered. The fifth question had stumped him, and after that he'd kind of given up. This was Mrs. Barell's other favorite thing- making spectacles of her problem students.

"Would you consider this complete, Mr. Curtis?"

Was that a trick question? Everyone in the whole class could see that is wasn't finished! And he hated it when she called him Mr. Curtis. He knew she only did that because it was impossible to make 'Sodapop' sound threatening. Even his mother had always had to throw in his middle name during situations like these.

To his dismay, he found that Mrs. Barell was actually waiting for an answer. If possible, Soda shrank down farther into his seat.

"No, Ma'am," he answered, sounding meeker than Johnny ever had.

She looked satisfied already, even a bit triumphant, though Soda was sure she wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. Winner though she was, Mrs. Barell didn't seem able to let him go with so little a battle. She sighed. Though Soda was certain it was only because she had to look like she cared.

"Soda," she said in her I'm-only-trying-to-help voice, "how do you expect to succeed if you don't even try?"

The scattered giggles were coming more and more frequently, and the old hag in front of him wasn't doing a thing to stifle them.

What gave her the right to look down on him like that? He knew his work in this class was nothing to be proud of, but it wasn't like he was sitting there trying to make a joke of the whole thing. Which was clearly the preferrable option at this point.

But he'd had to work last night. And Darry was getting more and more stressed about the bills. And Pony kept getting quieter and quieter… Just when exactly was he supposed to have time to care about his _homework_?

She told him to stay after class. Sodapop was out the door before the bell had even rung. And he continued out the front doors of the school, not caring that he still had three classes left. He wasn't coming back.

All those years of mistakes, and he'd finally learned the lesson. And he didn't plan on looking back.

_Learn from your mistakes, but never regret._

**Review please!**

**Though I understand if you feel like protesting after the ridiculous wait… **

**I don't own the Outsiders!**


	16. People Change, and Things Go Wrong

**Okay, so I just realized something. (And I'm hoping this one gets put up relatively soon compared to the last one.) Usually, when I go back to update a story that hasn't been touched in a long time, I'll go back and look at the reviews the story's gotten so far as a way to revamp my motivation… I didn't do that this time, but I want to thank you guys, because I got so many awesome reviews, and some of this was written a long time ago and really isn't that good. I like to think that my writing has since developed quite a bit, and I certainly wouldn't praise it as much as you all have, and I really appreciate all the support! **

_People change, and things go wrong..._

**Cherry's POV**

This was an impossible conversation. And I knew it was an impossible conversation, but as I was having it with myself, there was no one to stop me from having it.

There was that tiny voice in the back of my head… _It's not your fault._ But that voice was starting to sound a lot like Marcia's voice, who I'd recently stopped speaking to.

Of course it wasn't my fault. In Marcia's eyes, it couldn't be. Because even if that older boy she'd been flirting with hadn't been the one to kill Bob, if it was _my_ fault, it was still partially _her_ fault for going along with it. Guilty by association.

It wasn't just Marcia. Since that night, I'd started pulling away from all of my friends. They were reminders. Every time I saw Randy and his friends turning a corner, I kept expecting to see Bob's face in that crowd. No, it hurt too much to spend my days with them. But every time I saw Ponyboy in school, images of Bob's funeral would flash through my mind, and I'd have to quickly turn away. I know he thought it was because I couldn't risk the slight on my reputation if I got caught making nice with a greaser, but I couldn't allow myself to get close enough to tell him he was wrong.

I needed to get away from Tulsa. I couldn't spend the rest of my days haunted by these memories. I couldn't spend the rest of my life feeling guilty for turning away every single time I saw Ponyboy Curtis, pretending I hadn't seen him when I knew… when _he_ knew that I had.

But if not mine, whose fault was it exactly? Bob's parents? No, how could anyone blame someone so broken? Bob himself? No, Bob was a good guy. A good guy with a drinking problem, but still. He was out of his mind that night! Johnny Cade's, for making this more than your average jumping? No, I couldn't believe that either. Johnny and Ponyboy were just trying to defend themselves.

…So was it my fault after all? For being angry at Bob and retaliating by spending time with who I knew would make him the most angry? It's as hard to take the blame for something so awful as it is to pin that blame on somebody else.

So no, in my head I couldn't find the culprit. But if there was one thing I knew, it was that I had to get out of here. There had to be a place where boys and girls of different social statuses could hang out, even flirt with each other without it becoming some sort of all-out war.

At one point in my life, Tulsa had been my home. I couldn't imagine ever leaving even if everyone kept telling me I was destined for greater things than a little town in Oklahoma. But things had changed.

I couldn't keep living like this.

Now, I couldn't imagine having to live the rest of my life staying here.

_People change, and things go wrong..._

**Review please!**

**So, we're wrapping up the 'quotes' that I wanted to do first. There's only one more last. These last three have all been sort of about moving on. I already know what I'm doing for the last one. I'll elaborate on that when it's finished; then I can start on some of the requests!**

**I don't own the Outsiders! **

**If any of you happened to really like this chapter and the whole Cherry changing her life sort of thing, my friend **gil17 **recently put up a story called **A Chance To Live. **You should check it out! (It's much better than I just made it sound. I'm not the best advertiser…) **


	17. But Always Remember: Life Goes On!

**Thanks once again for all the wonderful reviews thus far! This is the last one that I will do for myself until I finish the requests. **

_But always remember: life goes on!_

The sunrise that morning was probably one of the most beautiful sights Sandy had ever seen in her life. It was so… perfect and uplifting and beautiful. So terribly unfitting, considering the situation. It was almost a relief when the train's harsh whistle tore her eyes away from the sky.

This was probably one of the worst days of her life, the feeling only increased by the letter that had arrived from Sodapop that morning. The letter that she hadn't opened and was still clutching in her hand.

Seeing her name in his admittedly less than enviable handwriting had just about broken her heart. Or, at least, it would have, had there been anything left to break.

Her father had refused to speak to her, look at her, even acknowledge her existence all that morning before she'd left. On the other hand, her mother had kept shooting her pained, almost scandalized glances. Sandy couldn't honestly decide which was worse.

"Stop acting like I've gone and killed someone!" she had wanted to shout when it had all just become too much. "I said I was sorry, okay?! People get pregnant. It's not the end of the world!"

Too late, she realized that she had spoken aloud.

She probably could have gotten the same response from flat-out striking her mother from the look on her face. Her father's jaw had been set tensely, but he'd continued his silent streak. Not five minutes later, bag in one hand, Soda's letter in the other, Sandy and her parents had set out for the train station.

Anyone would have thought that her grandmother would be the most old-fashioned of the bunch, but the older woman was surprisingly easy-going. In fact, from what Sandy could tell, her grandmother was the only one addressing her with open arms these days. Except for Sodapop of course. And she couldn't bear to think about him just then.

She squeezed the handle of her bag even tighter in an attempt to keep from wrinkling the unopened letter too badly. The pain was intense, and she knew it had nothing to do with the baby.

The train began to pull out of the station, and she took it as a breath of fresh air. She wiped thoughts of her old boyfriend out of her mind, looking out the window. She didn't see her parents on the platform. And, while the station wasn't exactly crowded this early in the morning, she couldn't say she'd expected them to wait around. Not if her father had anything to say about it. For what would their excuse be for sending their daughter away to Florida with her grandmother if anybody asked? They wouldn't have a good answer. And anyone who bothered to ask would have already assumed the real reason anyway.

In one sudden motion, Sandy unzipped the top compartment to her bag and dropped the letter inside. She worked to wipe thoughts of Sodapop, her parents, and just Tulsa in general out of her mind. She would have this baby, this baby would go to some nice family, and then she would stay in Florida. Her mind was made up, and she knew her grandmother would be all too supportive after her parents had practically thrown her out of the house in exile.

Sandy would start school again after she had her baby, finish high school, and move on from there. If this was her one chance at a new beginning, she wasn't going to stand around wondering if she should take it. There was no question in her mind that she needed to to this. She would start over without a single backwards glance, and things would be better.

That's what she told herself at least.

_But always remember: life goes on!_

**Review please!**

**Okay, and now it is time for the long-awaited explanation that you all deserve. This story came to life three years ago now when I found this picture (probably on Google Images or something) with the following words:**

_Life is too short_

_Grudges are a waste of perfect happiness_

_Laugh when you can_

_Apologize when you should_

_And let go of what you can't change_

_Love deeply and forgive quickly_

_Take chances, give everything_

_And have no regrets_

_Life is too short to be unhappy_

_You have to take the good with the bad_

_Smile when you're sad_

_Love what you got_

_And always remember what you had_

_Always forgive but never forget_

_Learn from your mistakes_

_But never regret_

_People change, and things go wrong…_

_But always remember: life goes on!_

**And so I had the 'plot' for my next Outsiders story. True this wasn't really a saying or a quote, but I decided I'd split this up and do these little one-shots and set this up to continue by taking requests once these were done. (: It's strange to think this is finally done, and it took a lot longer than I know it should have. Some of my older reviewers probably have no idea their requests will finally be completed, but I do plan on completing them, so that if they ever come back some day, it will be here.**

**I don't own the Outsiders, and thanks again!**


	18. Veni Vedi Vici

**So, this is my first request. I know it's taken me a ridiculously long time to put up the 17 one-shots that started this story, but I've been thinking about this request since it was first sent to me. In a way, I guess it's a good thing that it took so long for this to be put up, because when it was first sent to me, I really didn't think I could write anything about war. **

**Just a little background in case any of you don't know: S. E. Hinton's original plans for Soda's future was that he would go off to war in Vietnam and die there. The way I understand it, this was met with such a huge uproar from the fanbase that Hinton said that her fans could just imagine Soda's future for themselves. Which is what I've done up until this point… This is the first story/one-shot I've written using what can only be considered the canon plot for Soda's future.**

**I want to apologize for just one thing… I'm sort of pleased with how the one-shot came out, but I'm not sure it truly does the quote justice. I see the quote as being said with a sort of triumphant, uplifiting air… and this is basically anything but that. I've known for a long time what the plot of this one-shot was going to be… and I just couldn't end up writing it any other way.**

**That said, I'm well aware that Steve may not sound very in-character. (Except for the very last sentence, which was also intentional.) I'm writing this with the setting being after he returned from war without his best friend. I wanted to write it so that he would come off sort of world-weary and not like you average 'dumb hood'. I think that should cover any complaints… So please enjoy.**

_Veni Vedi Vici _(I came, I saw, I conquered)

Requested by: _PrussianCraze_

**Steve's POV**

Growing up, life on the rougher side of Tulsa never seemed like much of a fairytale. Violence was plentiful here, happy endings uncommon. I never thought I would walk through the streets of this town and think back on those times as 'happy days'. That this was my 'Once upon a time'.

Now I walk past the old neighborhoods and the DX in my street clothes and feel farther away than I ever was before I came home. I pass kids who think they own this town. Kids who hate the world and long to get out and _do_ something about everything that oppresses them. They look absolutely ridiculous.

But I don't hold it against them. I used to think like that. I used to be those kids.

Soda was never like that. None of the Curtises are. Don't get me wrong; they're respected well enough, but there always seemed to be something more to them. A part of them that always knew that there was more to life than someone else's opinion.

Evie asked me once if I realized how beautiful my best friend was. It had been during one of our first dates, before any of us had even met Sandy. At the time, I had glanced at her suspiciously, but she didn't notice. She was too busy watching Soda lose himself on the dance floor. I could see what she meant then. Sure, my best friend was handsome, but that wasn't why she was staring. It was rare to see a kid from our neighborhood look that happy without being totally wasted. Hell, it was strange just to see a kid from our neighborhood look that happy in general.

But Soda put new meaning to the term 'free-spirit'. After all that happened with his parents, being caught between two extremes with his brothers, and Johnny and Dallas's deaths… No one would have held it against him if he'd cracked once he'd gotten drafted. But Sodapop had seen Vietnam as nothing more than his next big adventure.

"Maybe we'll finally get outta this town," he'd joked when it happened. When I did nothing but grumble incoherently in response he'd said, "What? Ain't that what you always wanted?"

"I said the _town_, not the _country_," I'd griped.

But Soda just grinned at me. No crazy plans to run off to Canada or burn his draft card for my best buddy, no sir. I wonder sometimes why he never seemed to be worried. It was nothing we ever talked about, but maybe he always knew that I would sign up if he got drafted.

It didn't feel like I was signing my life away at the time, even if the recruiter _was_ looking at me like I was a piece of meat and not a human being. I honestly can't remember what I thought it would be like. I don't know if I thought my best friend and I would be supporting each other, side by side, through the whole ordeal. All I know is that it wasn't like that. Not at all.

Images of how I thought things would be have been trampled upon and forever burned out of my mind, replaced by memories of how things really were. War wasn't one glorious, exhilarating battle after another. I didn't have Soda's back throughout the whole thing. I didn't even _see _him once we'd left. I didn't know until I came home that he never would.

So now when I walk through these streets, I don't see greasers and Socs. I see kids who were just like me. And I don't want them to change, even if that dooms them to hate the world forever. They're better off in their ignorance. They're better off without having to envision someone being shot as they watch that very person, be it a stranger or not, walk down the street.

In my own home, it's almost like nothing ever happened. The shades are still shut tight, the television is still blaring at all hours of the night. My father is still slumped in his chair, a bottle to his lips. Inside, it's almost too easy to believe that I'll walk back out and see the world like I used to. That I never went off to war, that my best friend didn't die too soon in some unnamed field. That Johnny and Pony and Dallas never went to Windrixville, that the Curtises never decided to go out that night. Locked in my room, I could be thirteen again for all the difference it made.

Later, people would say that there was a part of me that I left behind in Vietnam when they thought I wasn't listening. I didn't care. Maybe I had. People like to make up excuses when you don't turn out to be all they expected of you. I hadn't come home the conquering hero they'd been expecting. But that was okay. I was used to not meeting expectations. A greaser through and through.

Ain't that right, Soda?

**Review please!**

**I don't own the Outsiders!**

**Thank you, **PrussianCraze**, for sending in this request!**


	19. Sometimes Life Isn't About

**Hey, guys. Thank you for your patience, and I'm really sorry for the delay on this one. I tried to write this one-shot in Soda's POV, like, 3 different ways, and it just wasn't working out. But now I've got something that I'm pretty pleased with, so I hope you enjoy! (:**

**This one-shot is set pre-book, (before they've met Dally, actually) but just in case my explanation of the ages got a little lost, Darry's supposed to be around 14, Soda, Steve, and Johnny 11, and Ponyboy 9. **

**Also, PS… I don't know if Johnny actually lived across the street… He probably didn't. But to fit the purpose of this one-shot, he does. So please don't hate on technicalities. **

_Sometimes life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain._

Requested by: _battle at arizona_

**Johnny's POV**

I watched the raindrops pounding against the window, shrinking away from the shouting in the next room. The thunder never bothered me. This summer storm could make as much of a racket as it wanted. It was only when those crashes and booms took the form of words and human voices that they made me sick. When it rains it pours, and there was always a storm raging in this house.

The water was hitting and streaming down the glass so hard I could barely see outside. I focused on the rain, seemingly at war with the rest of Tulsa. Cold, suffocating… I sighed. This was nothing new. Living with my parents was a practice in learning to breathe underwater. But as cruel as a sunny neighborhood could be, I still didn't really like the storm. I hated it when the outside reflected the inside.

I bolted away from my seat near the window just as something went flying past my head (a plate maybe?) and shattered. Well, that was that. The fight was moving into this room. I was out the front door before they could bring me into it.

The best thing about today (and the worst thing about Oklahoma in general) is that it never really gets cold in July, not even when it rains. So I was able to sit on our front steps, my knees drawn up to my chest, in relative comfort. Or, I would have, if not for the screaming inside.

I stayed out there well into the afternoon, until the storm started easing up. My parents had quieted down too, but I never trust the calm. It's always temporary.

It was still raining lightly when two boys came barreling out of the house across the street. I jumped as they tackled each other into the mud, but they were laughing. I watched for a while, playing around like… well, kids. They looked to be about my age, though in all honesty, I looked much younger than eleven.

I leaned my head back against the house and closed my eyes. Seven years. Just seven more years 'til I could be free of this place. I had already survived the first eleven, what was seven more? The thoughts were meant to be uplifting, but all they managed to do was add to the heavy weight on my heart.

I jumped almost to my feet when I opened my eyes to find one of the boys from next door standing over me. He had on a once-white shirt and his long blond hair was greased, like mine. Of course, now nearly every inch of him was covered in mud, too… The boy also had kind brown eyes and a wide smile.

"Hey. Sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya. I saw you watchin'… Wanna play?"

For a moment I was too dumbstruck to answer, but when he held out his hand I took it. I hate to admit how much I was still trembling from the shock as he pulled me up, but he didn't say anything.

I followed him slowly across the street, realizing for the first time how little I knew about my neighbors. I knew the house had always seemed to just _radiate_ this happy air. A happier atmosphere than my house, anyway.

I'd seen a large man and a blonde woman, happily married, come and go. Their home was always teeming with life, and though I couldn't really tell, I knew they had anywhere between two and five sons, some boys not appearing for long periods of time and then resurfacing and staying for weeks.

Okay, so maybe I'd done more than a little watching. But no matter how many hours I'd spent staring at that house, I never could have been prepared for what lay inside.

"Sodapop Curtis!" My new guide didn't so much as flinch at the scolding tone that met us the second we walked inside. "You look worse than Steve! Why do you think Mom doesn't like to leave you guys with me?"

Sodapop bounced up and poked the muscles on his older brother's crossed arms. I could only stare, not being able to imagine ever taking the words of the behemoth standing before us so carelessly. (Later I would find out that he was only a few years older than us.) But I could see his angry resolve starting to fade.

"Aw, lighten up, Dar. We were just having some fun," Sodapop was saying now. I could tell already that this kid couldn't sit still for a second.

At last, the older boy sighed, shaking his head. "Go take a bath or something, will you?" he relented and Sodapop flounced off agreeably.

Now the huge boy turned to me. "Sorry about him. Soda can be a little… overwhelming the first time you meet him." I could hear the exasperated affection in his voice. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Darry Curtis."

I shook his hand, timid and silent.

"Ain't ya got a name, kid?"

I jumped again. Darry's wide frame had blocked the other boy, who could only be Steve, reaching into the fridge. He was recently showered, and though the clothes fit him, they had a borrowed look to them. His gaze was intense, and I looked away.

"Johnny Cade…" I said in a voice so soft I was sure they probably couldn't hear me.

But Darry cocked his head thoughtfully. "Cade… You live across the street, right?"

I nodded almost imperceptibly, keeping my eyes glued to the floor out of shame. How often had they stayed up at night listening to my parents' screaming? Or was I the only one who did that? But Darry didn't say anything more.

Soda had taken his shower in record time. I heard the water shut off and saw him rush to his room in only a towel. He quickly came back out, still undressed.

"Hey, Darry, have you seen my other white shirt?" He stopped abruptly when he spotted it on his friend. Steve took a sip of his Pepsi a little too casually.

"Gee, buddy, thanks for asking." Soda's words were sarcastic but not serious.

"No problem," he replied, barely masking a smile.

Soda rolled his eyes and made a grab for his friend as if he was going to tear the shirt right off of him. Of course, with one hand still holding his towel around his waist, he wasn't having an easy time of it, and Steve nimbly jumped out of the way.

"Soda." Once again he was rewarded for his actions with a warning tone. "How 'bout you put on some clothes first, huh, little buddy?"

Still smiling, Steve finally relented, setting his drink down on the counter behind him. He pulled off the shirt and tossed it to Soda who caught it with his free hand and draped it over his shoulder. Then, in a movement so fast I would have missed it if I'd blinked, Soda grabbed the bottle from behind his friend and darted back to his own room.

No sooner had Steve rushed after him did another, younger voice join us.

"Darry, I finished it." A boy of just eight or nine came around the corner, handing Darry a book.

"Thanks," said Darry, taking the book back from who I could only assume was another younger brother. He glanced at the cover and his eyes widened ever so slightly. "_This_ is the one I let you borrow?"

"Yes." The kid was a pitiful liar, but Darry let it go, choosing instead just to sigh and turn to me. "Johnny, this is my youngest brother Ponyboy. Pony, this is Johnny Cade. He lives across the street."

It wasn't much of an introduction, but I could tell by the way the kid started staring at me that they knew at least a little of what went on across the street. I looked down again and Darry cleared his throat, an almost silent scolding to Ponyboy for being rude. I appreciated the gesture, but to be honest, it didn't make me feel any better.

"Wanna hang out?" Pony asked almost meekly.

I glanced up long enough for us to exchange small smiles. Darry shook his head, looking almost exasperated, and he went to go check on Soda and Steve while I followed Ponyboy back to his room. We spent the rest of the afternoon looking through Soda's old comic books and some of Ponyboy's artwork. We didn't talk a whole lot, but it was a comfortable silence, and I enjoyed his company. I don't think I'd ever enjoyed anyone's company so much. It was the first time that it really hit me that I didn't have any friends, no one I could go to when things got bad.

His mother came home and checked in on us shortly after I arrived, but for the most part we were left to ourselves.

It was easily the best afternoon of my life, and time moved quickly. Before I knew it, the storm had picked back up and it was almost time for dinner. Pony ran out of the room at the sound of his father coming home, and I walked over to his window to resume my watch.

I stared at my house and felt a sudden clenching in my chest. I'd never imagined I could be so happy. Before I knew it, a tear had trailed down my cheek and plunged to the carpet.

"Hey…" I spun around to see Sodapop standing beside me. (He had a natural talent for sneaking up on me when I was lost in my thoughts.) "It's okay, kiddo… Just a little thunder." He had one arm wrapped around me in a loose hug, and his tone was gentle.

It was almost enough to make me laugh. He thought I was shaking out of _fear_, scared of the storm. I quickly wiped away my tears, and Soda smiled. "C'mon. Dinner's ready."

There was so much happiness in this house… It made me feel like I could not only survive the storm but maybe even enjoy it. I never wanted to leave.

**Review please!**

**So it occurred to me as I was typing this up that I seem to have a problem envisioning Darry outside of a role of responsibility. Which is funny because it's such a huge part of his character in **_**The Outsiders **_**that he's just recently come into this role and still basically a kid himself. So even at 14... Just babysitting… he still came off as so much more… in charge. **

**Anyway… I don't own the Outsiders, and I hope you enjoyed this! Happy New Years! I'm hoping to get the next one up soon. The next one is a fun quote… (: **


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